


Kid Curry Bites the Bullet

by Pony Girl (Jackjunkie)



Category: Alias Smith and Jones
Genre: Drama, Gen, Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-16
Updated: 2012-12-16
Packaged: 2017-11-21 06:14:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,524
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/594400
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jackjunkie/pseuds/Pony%20Girl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A contest prize involves Heyes and Curry with a family of orphans.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Kid Curry Bites the Bullet

**Author's Note:**

> Originally published in the zine Bite the Bullet #3

“Yow!”

Kid Curry let out a squawk, dropped the biscuit he was holding, and clamped his hands to his jaw.

“Now, Kid, it ain’t that bad,” admonished Hannibal Heyes, who was seated across from him. “Fact, the food’s downright tasty.”

“Mmf, mm hmm mm hmm hmm hmm,” answered the Kid as he maneuvered a small hard object through a mouthful of biscuit. He had taken a large bite and barely begun chewing before his tooth-rattling impact with something that definitely did not feel remotely edible. He had eaten some hardtack in his day that was as light as air in comparison.

“I thought your mother learned you better manners than to talk with your mouth full,” Heyes sternly lectured his friend.

At last the Kid managed to swallow the chewed-up biscuit while holding the hard object between his front teeth. Making a face at the metallic taste, he spit it into his hand where he examined it in surprise.

“My mother never fed me bullets for dinner,” he observed, holding it out for his partner’s inspection.

Heyes gingerly took the bit of metal and held it up to the light, rolling it between his thumb and forefinger. A speculative murmur ran through the small restaurant as other diners turned to see what the fuss was about.

“It’s the bullet—they found the bullet! Congratulations! We have a winner, everyone,” excitedly announced their waitress, a young girl of about 16.

Two children joined her in cheering and clapping their hands, then ran towards the kitchen calling, “Perry, Perry! Someone found the bullet!” A teenage boy poked his head around the door to watch.

Heyes and Curry were not exactly thrilled at suddenly finding themselves the center of attention, a circumstance they generally made every attempt to avoid, but they couldn’t help smiling. The youngsters’ high spirits were infectious.

“I don’t get it, but it sounds like this may be our lucky day,” Heyes surmised.

The girl who had been waiting on their table bustled over to them. She had thick chestnut hair tied back with a blue ribbon that matched the simple blue dress she wore under a ruffled apron. She clasped her hands and beamed at them proudly, as though they had accomplished some marvelous feat.

The Kid looked up at her. “You tryin’ to say this was supposed to be in my biscuit?” he asked in some confusion.

“More to the point, she’s sayin’ you won something. Wha’d he win?” asked Heyes, ever the businessman.

“Why, one month of dinners for two, on the house,” she responded. “You see, it’s like finding a coin in your plum pudding, but we couldn’t spare actual money. That’s why we used a bullet instead.”

“I coulda choked on that thing or broken a tooth.” The Kid was a bit indignant. The bone-shaking feeling of biting down on the piece of metal was still fresh. He wasn’t ready yet to be pacified, even by the prospect of free food.

He had another worrisome thought. “For that matter, why didn’t it explode in the hot oven?”

“Don’t be silly,” answered the girl, “I took the gunpowder out before I baked it, of course. And we gave everyone fair warning to be careful to look through their biscuits before eating them. We put up enough signs.”

She pointed to one advertising the restaurant’s “Bullet in Your Biscuit” contest in large, bold letters.

“Oh.” The Kid observed the sign belatedly. “I uh, didn’t see it before. We just rode into town and didn’t hear about no contest.”

“I’m sorry,” said the girl in dismay. “I never thought about newcomers not knowin’ about it. Oh dear, you aren’t hurt, are you?”

The Kid relented at the sight of her distress. “No, just caught me by surprise is all. I’m real grateful to win your contest.”

The girl brightened. “That’s fine. You can start collecting on your prize as of right now. No payment owed on these meals. You just show up here every day at dinnertime and we’ll feed the both of you. I’m a real good cook. You won’t be sorry.” She left them to finish eating.

“Kid,” said Heyes, tossing the bullet on his palm, “all that time you spend taking care of that gun like it was your baby, I guess it’s only right this baby’s gonna pay some o’ that back.”

“That’s fine, Heyes,” the Kid said. He took the bullet back and tucked it in his shirt pocket. “But if it’s all the same to you, I’d just as soon eat in peace and not have to deal with any more surprises.”

“Kid, ya worry too much.”

“Worryin’s part o’ my job, remember?”

“Then how’s about worryin’ whether ya want apple or peach pie for dessert?”

“Long as they didn’t leave in the apple cores or peach pits, that’s the kind o’ worryin’ I favor.”

*****

Heyes and Curry returned the following evening to claim their free meal. Something about its being free seemed to add an extra seasoning that made it even more delicious. They applied themselves to doing it justice. When their first pangs of hunger were assuaged, they looked up from eating just long enough to notice that customers seemed somewhat sparser than on their previous visit.

Their young waitress stopped by to refill their coffee cups.

“Quiet in here tonight,” Heyes commented.

The girl sighed. “No quieter than it is every night.”

The Kid looked around. “Seems like there were a few more folks in here last night.”

“Yes, on account of the bullet contest. We wanted to attract more customers. We thought if folks came in once and tried it, they’d come back, but it hasn’t worked out that way yet. Course it might be too soon to tell,” she added hopefully.

“Doesn’t seem like you should have any problem attractin’ customers with good food like this,” Curry complimented her.

“Thanks,” the girl smiled wanly, “but that doesn’t seem to make much difference. Too many other places got food just as good I guess—not enough call for another in this town. If things don’t pick up soon, my brothers and sister and me are gonna lose the restaurant and then I don’t know what we’ll do.”

“Are things that bad?” Heyes asked sympathetically.

Before she could answer, a little girl ran across the room to her. “Phoebe, Phoebe!” she called. “Theo fell down and hurt his knees and he’s bleeding!”

“What? Cassie, are you sure? Where is he?” the girl asked.

“In the kitchen with Perry,” answered the child.

Taking the little girl’s hand, Phoebe darted swiftly for the kitchen. Heyes and Curry were right behind her.

In the next room, they beheld the teenage boy they had seen the night before washing the blood from a younger boy’s scraped knees.

“Theo!” Phoebe exclaimed at the sight. Her naturally pale skin seemed to lighten a shade, giving her a deceptively frail appearance, but she did not go into hysterics over the blood. “Are you all right?” she asked the boy calmly.

Theo was scowling at the cleaning process, but he looked up and said, “Yeah, I just skinned my knees. It’s nuthin’.”

The older boy began to reassure her. “It looks worse than it is…” He trailed off at the sight of the two men standing behind her.

She glanced around to see they had followed her into the kitchen. “Oh, you all remember our two prize winners from last night. These are my brothers and sister—Pericles, Theocritus, and Cassandra. I’m Phoebe Trent.”

Heyes and Curry smiled at the children and gave their aliases.

“Joshua Smith.”

“Thaddeus Jones.”

“Unusual names,” Heyes commented. He and Curry had always thought Hannibal and Jedediah were tongue-twisters but here were twice as many that sounded twice as tongue-tangling.

“Yes, my father was something of a Greek scholar,” Phoebe told them. “Mama was the practical one. We’re lucky she taught us cooking and sewing and such before they passed on. We’ve been trying to run this restaurant ourselves. If we can’t support the family on our own, Perry and I will get by but they’ll take the children away and put them in an orphanage.”

“We won’t let that happen, Sis, even if…” Perry broke off without finishing his thought.

“If what?” Heyes questioned.

“If we gotta do somethin’ desperate,” Theo proclaimed defiantly.

“Hush,” his sister told him. “We’ll have no more talk like that.”

The Kid exchanged a significant look with Heyes. They didn’t need to have desperate spelled out for them. They knew precisely what desperate measures kids in that situation would take. They’d been that road themselves when they ran away from the Home for Waywards they’d been stuck in when their own folks were killed, and they’d ended up with $20,000 on their heads. They didn’t like to think of these kids following down that same road.

“How’d you fall anyway?” Phoebe was continuing to question her brother.

“Skatin’,” came the answer.

“I might have known.” She threw up her hands and sat back on her heels.

“Skating? In this weather?” asked the Kid, puzzled. He glanced out the window as if to assure himself that the long, warm, sunny summer day hadn’t been mysteriously transformed into the ice and snow and dark of winter. It hadn’t of course—but then how could there be any ice to skate on?

Just then Heyes caught sight of a couple sets of small wheels attached to straps lying on the floor. He nudged his partner and nodded to the contraptions.

“Roller skates, Thaddeus,” he said.

“Roller skates?” repeated the Kid, picking up one of the devices to give it a closer scrutiny.

“We can’t help it, Phoebe,” Cassie was saying. “Folks don’t like us to skate on the boardwalks.”

“So we gotta skate in the streets,” Theo picked up his sister’s explanation. “I didn’t see the rut till I hit it. I was bein’ careful, honest.”

“I know,” Phoebe sighed.

The Kid passed the skate he was holding to his partner. Heyes looked it over and said, “I heard of ‘em but I never seen any before.”

Phoebe looked up at them and explained, “Where we lived before there was a proper roller skating rink. They’re less likely to fall on the smooth floor and less likely to hurt themselves if they do. I can’t stop them from skating here even though there’s no rink. They love it too much, and they have little enough fun.” She smiled at her younger siblings and stood up.

Perry finished tending to Theo. He stood and looked hopefully at his sister. She laughed.

“All right, go on back outside and play. But remember…”

“I know,” Theo interrupted her, “we’ll be careful.”

He took the skate Heyes handed to him and he and Cassie ran back outside.

“They’re nice children. You’re doin’ a good job of raisin’ ‘em,” the Kid said to Phoebe.

“Thank you. I only hope I can keep on raisin’ ‘em,” she answered.

“I told you, Phoebe. We’re stickin’ together. No matter what.” Perry gave his sister a mutinous look and went off to dump out the bloody water before she could contradict him.

*****

Heyes and Curry came back to the little restaurant each evening for their free dinner and soon got to be on very friendly terms with the Trent family. Sometimes there were a few other customers in the place; other times they were the only ones eating there. They expressed their concern over whether the Trents could afford their prize.

“Oh, don’t worry about that,” Phoebe assured them. “At this point, two more mouths to feed don’t make much difference one way or t’other.”

Somehow the little family managed to scrape along on what they earned there. Phoebe took in a little sewing to supplement what the restaurant brought in and the other children helped out with whatever odd jobs they could scrounge up. They were unfailingly cheerful, but they always seemed to be just one step ahead of the bill collectors. So it was little short of a catastrophe when Phoebe took sick.

The Kid had remarked that she looked a little tired, but she insisted it was nothing. The next thing they knew she just collapsed. Luckily Curry caught her before she hit the floor. He carried her out to the kitchen while Heyes went for the doctor.

Perry was alarmed at the sight of his usually strong sister passed out cold in the Kid’s arms, but he kept his head and ran upstairs ahead of them to turn down her bed. As the Kid laid her on it he informed Perry that the doctor should be arriving shortly.

“We can’t afford a doctor,” Perry objected.

“You let us worry about that,” the Kid reassured him.

“We ain’t gonna take charity,” Perry rebelled.

The Kid bit back a stinging retort and spoke quietly to the boy instead.

“It’s not charity, son. It’s friendship. Your sister needs help so why don’t you let us return some of that kindness she’s shown us by helping her.”

Perry nodded his acceptance of that reasoning.

Soon Heyes was back with the doctor, and they all waited anxiously in the kitchen for the results of the examination. When they heard the bedroom door open and close Perry jumped to his feet. He had all he could do not to run up the stairs to intercept the doctor before he could come down.

The doctor had good news for them. He joined them at the kitchen table for a cup of coffee and explained the circumstances of Phoebe’s illness and treatment.

“It’s mostly exhaustion. Girl’s just plumb wore out. That’s likely what made her so susceptible to catching a touch of catarrh. Don’t worry—it’s not influenza.”

They all breathed a sigh of relief on hearing that.

“A few days of rest,” the doctor continued, “and taking the medicine I left her, and she should be right as rain. I’ll stop by again tomorrow to see how she’s coming along.”

“Thanks, Doc. Can I go see her?” Perry asked.

“All right, but just for a moment, mind. She needs to get some sleep.”

“I’ll be real quick.” He leaped for the stairs and then, wishing to impress the doctor with his willingness to follow his instructions, he tiptoed up them.

“Appreciate your stopping by, Doc,” Heyes thanked him.

“I hate to see someone so young and healthy working themselves into such a state. She has no business being my patient at all. Ah well, life can be hard, even on children. I’ve seen enough of that in my time.”

“We know what ya mean, Doc,” said the Kid, as the doctor took his leave. “Heyes,” he began.

“I know, I know. Ya wanna help. Ya think I don’t? But what can we do?”

“Well, for starters we can pitch in while Phoebe’s sick.”

“Great. Our cooking is just what they need to drive the rest of their customers away.”

*****

It wsn’t quite as bad as all that. Heyes and Curry took it in turns with Perry to rotate the cooking, cleaning, and waiting on tables. The three of them managed okay.

The younger children helped by tending to Phoebe’s needs, but she slept most of the time as the doctor had recommended, so their share basically amounted to a little fetching and carrying.

After a couple of days she was feeling improved but still somewhat weak. They didn’t have to work too hard to persuade her into another day of rest. In fact, she and the children all fell into a sound sleep early that evening without any coaxing at all.

The Kid walked into the kitchen with a load of dirty dishes. “That’s the last of ‘em,” he said. He deposited them on the countertop near the washtub.

Heyes was up to his elbows in soap suds. “Why don’t you grab a towel and start drying,” he suggested.

Curry turned and couldn’t repress a chuckle.

“What’s so funny?” his partner asked.

“Aw, Heyes, you do look lovely,” he drawled, admiring the frilly apron his friend had donned to keep his clothes dry. “You’re gonna make some lucky woman a good wife someday.”

Heyes flicked the dishrag at him, spattering him with suds. In retaliation, Curry reached into the dishpan and splashed his friend. Heyes splashed back. Soon both men were dripping wet.

Looking round for a new weapon, Curry spotted the big bowl of Indian pudding Heyes had attempted to make for dessert that evening. It hadn’t gone over too well and most of it was still in the bowl, waiting to be thrown out. Curry picked up the bowl and grinned.

“No. No, Kid, you wouldn’t…”

“Wouldn’t I?” Curry responded and sloshed the contents of the bowl at his partner. Heyes ducked. The pudding flew over his head and landed splat all over Perry, who had just walked up behind him.

The boy stood stunned for a moment while pudding dripped off the end of his nose. Then with a whoop he charged.

The two men dashed behind the table. Perry faced them from the other side. If he started around one way, they went the other. If he changed direction, they matched him. Finally he lunged across, knocking over the molasses which spilled onto the floor. Heyes and Curry dropped to their knees and scurried under the table to the other side.

Perry rolled off the table and snatched up the first bowl he saw. Hurling the flour it contained into the air, he watched the white stuff drift down over the two men like snow. He laughed as it covered their hair, faces, and clothes, turning them into snowmen. He gleefully pointed this out to them, wanting to make sure they knew how funny they looked.

They decided it was time to turn defense into offense. They split up and caught the boy between them, lifted him up, and carried him over to the washtub.

“We’re gonna hafta wash off some of this pudding,” Heyes said, cupping his hands and pouring water over Perry’s head. Perry opened his mouth to laugh, swallowed some of the water, and coughed instead.

“I think he’s had enough, Joshua. Truce?” Curry asked Perry, slapping him on the back to stop the coughing.

The boy nodded and took a deep breath. “Truce,” he agreed.

“What on earth…?” came a voice from above.

They looked up to see Phoebe standing on the stairs surveying the scene below. She clutched a shawl about her nightdress, and the look on her face told them clearly that she could not believe her eyes.

“Phoebe! What are you doing out of bed?” Perry accusingly questioned his sister.

“Coming to see what all the commotion is about,” she answered. “I can see I’m going to have my work cut out for me, cleaning up this mess now that I’m back on my feet.”

Perry started up the stairs towards her. “You shouldn’t be on your feet,” he scolded. “I’ll take you back to bed.”

“Very well, but I’m feeling much better. I’ll be up and around tomorrow.”

“We’ll have the mess cleaned up before then,” the Kid promised.

“Come along now,” Perry urged.

“Very well. You go ahead. I’m right behind you.”

She started up, but paused as he climbed out of earshot. She faced the two guilty, floury faces below.

“Thank you,” she said softly. “I haven’t seen Perry laugh that much in longer than I care to remember.” Then she went on up the stairs.

Heyes turned to say something to the Kid, but before he could get the words out of his mouth he began to laugh.

“What now?” Curry asked.

Heyes just pointed at him and kept laughing.

Curry began to grin. “We do kinda look like a coupla snowmen, don’t we?”

*****

Perry came back downstairs to help them clean up the mess. He had let his guard down during the horsing around and now he was able to confide in them some of his worries about his family’s future.

“Have you thought of selling the restaurant?” Heyes inquired.

“Yeah, we tried that. No one wants to buy it. They know they won’t make any more money at it than we can. Just aren’t enough customers to go around.”

“Does it have to be a restaurant?” Curry asked. “Could you make it over into another kind of business? Something there’s more call for.”

“Like what? There’s nothing else we really know how to do. Leastways, not that folks would pay money for.”

The Kid scrubbed at the sticky molasses. “What you need,” he said pensively, “is to find somethin’ different. Somethin’ the other restaurants ain’t got, that folks’d want to come in here for.”

“All we’ve got,” Perry inventoried gloomily, “is Father’s old Greek books, one horse between the four of us, and Cassie and Theo’s dolls and toys.”

Heyes fished an object out from under a chair. “And roller skates,” he smiled. About to toss it in the corner, he paused and looked at it again as if seeing it for the first time. “Roller skates,” he repeated musingly.

“Joshua,” the Kid said, watching his partner. “You got an idea?” He could always tell when Heyes got that certain look on his face that his fertile mind was at work hatching a new scheme.

“I think I do. Roller skates!” he announced.

Perry and the Kid just looked at him blankly.

“Don’t you see?” he said, impatient that the two ordinary mortal minds couldn’t follow his lightning line of thought.

“No,” they said in unison. “How can roller skates help?” Perry added.

“Didn’t you all tell us how much Theo and Cassie miss the roller skating rink you used to go to in the town where you used to live?”

“That’s right,” Perry confirmed, still not comprehending what Heyes was getting at. “It was a nice rink, good-sized. Lots of people went skating there.”

The Kid was the first to catch on to his partner’s idea. “Oh Joshua, no. A roller skating rink?” he said in disbelief.

“Why not? You said yourself, Thaddeus, what they need is something this town hasn’t got. Well, they haven’t got a roller skating rink. I’ve heard how popular they’re getting to be. All the big towns have ‘em. It’s new and fun and… and wholesome. All kinds of folks want to try it out. You want to bring in customers. I say this will bring them in.”

“But… but we can’t turn the restaurant into a roller skating rink!” Perry objected, still perplexed.

“Sure we can,” Heyes said enthusiastically. He was always full of enthusiasm when it came to one of his plans. “It’ll take some carpentry work, but Thaddeus an’ me can help you out there. We need something to do to fill in the time between poker games at the saloon anyway, don’t we, Thaddeus?”

“Mm hm.” The Kid was not quite as enthusiastic about the prospect of the physical work involved. He knew Heyes was looking at the mental challenge of working out his plan without really paying heed to the practical aspects. That’d be left to him to point out. The difficulties weren’t insurmountable, though. In fact, it just might work. After all, it was a Hannibal Heyes Plan. He resigned himself to the inevitable.

“When do we start?” he asked.

*****

So they built a roller skating rink in the restaurant. They didn’t do away with the restaurant completely. They kept a small area where folks could have refreshments while they took a break from their skating or watched other skaters going around.

Heyes was right. They could tell at the grand opening that it was going to be a big success. It seemed like everyone in town wanted to try out this strange new activity. Everyone, that is, but the one who got it all rolling, so to speak.

“Come on, Heyes, give it a try. You can’t put all this work in on the place and then not even try it,” coaxed the Kid. He’d let the Trent kids show him the basics and was already getting around okay.

“No, I’m fine right here, Kid. Seein’ you on wheels is about all the fun I can take for one day.”

“Mr. Smith, aren’t you gonna skate?” The youngest Trent rolled to a stop beside the two men.

“Cassie, I think Mr. Smith is worried ‘cause he doesn’t know how. Maybe you can help him the way you helped me,” prompted the Kid.

“Will you skate with me, Mr. Smith? I’ll show you how.” Cassie held out her hand to Heyes.

“Oh… no… that’s not… I mean I can’t…” The silver tongue floundered in the face of that little-girl appeal. Heyes capitulated.

“How can I say no to an invitation from a charming lady? Okay, Cassie. Let’s go get me some skates and you can show me how it’s done.” He took her hand. “I’ll get you for this,” he muttered to the Kid as he left. Curry just grinned.

“Yee-hah!” Theo and Perry raced by him with a couple of other boys. Phoebe walked over to the side of the rink from where she’d been serving refreshments.

“Look at all these people,” she marveled. “We won’t have to worry for a long time if business keeps up like this.”

“It’s a good beginning,” agreed the Kid.

“I don’t know how we can ever thank you for what you’ve done for us.”

“Joshua gets all the ideas and I just go along with ‘em.”

“We’re grateful to both of you,” she insisted.

“Keepin’ kids out of orphanages or worse is kind of our pet project. All in a day’s work.”

“Mm hm.” She watched Cassie lead Heyes onto the rink floor. “I think Cassie has a pet project, too—to get the whole world on wheels.”

Curry grinned as Heyes rolled haltingly along, clinging to the little girl’s hand and waving his other arm around for balance. Just then the boys whizzed by again.

“Come on, Mr. Jones. It’s a race!” Perry invited and waved to Curry to join them.

“Well, go on then,” Phoebe waved him off.

The Kid skated after the boys, not yet sure-footed enough to catch up, but having fun trying all the same.

Phoebe listened to the merriment and watched the people rolling around the rink: her neighbors, her brothers and sister. They were safe now. Everything was going to be all right. She could feel it. She watched the two men responsible for it all and remembered the bullet that had brought them into their lives. Her family were the ones who had really won a prize that day, though they didn’t know it at the time.

“Come on, Phoebe, come skate!” Theo called.

“Oh I can’t. I have to take care of the tables.”

“Come on. Just for a minute. They can wait a minute.”

She was tempted. She looked over at the tables. Everyone seemed to be set for now.

“All right. Just for a minute I guess.”

She ran to strap on her skates.

THE END


End file.
